


The Inheritance Of Words

by BaronessEmma



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: $h!t will change, Gen, More tags to be added, NaNoWriMo 2016, first draft, unedited
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 14:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8450488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BaronessEmma/pseuds/BaronessEmma





	

Internet Me

_~Hey, friend. Haven't heard from you in a while. Shall we chat?~_

Wanda got up from her chair to check on her morning tea. She left the little chat window open, with Jane's avatar floating in the corner. Jane was always the best to talk to in the morning, but she hadn't been online for nearly two weeks.

Not that Wanda had any proof that Jane was actually a she, of course. They had been friends for almost three years, but had never exchanged real names, or even real photos. In fact, Wanda had shared more "reality" than Jane knew, because Wanda's screen name was "Reed", her middle name, though she never told anyone that.

The water was boiling now, so Wanda picked up the kettle and poured it over the two teabags she had already put in the teapot. She dipped her head into the resultant steam cloud and inhaled happily. The fresh, hot smell was revitalizing. She did not like tea that had steeped for more than a minute, so she quickly poured herself a large mug, added a small spoonful of honey, grabbed one of the oatmeal cookies she'd made yesterday, and went back to see if Jane had responded.

Wanda smiled at the screen, because she had.

_*Hello. Is this "Reed"?*_

Wanda furrowed her brow. That was an odd question.

_~Uh. . . Yes. Is this Jane?~_

There was a long pause. Then -

_*Well. . . no. Not exactly.*_

Wanda's frown deepened.

_~O. . .kay. Then who is this, please?~_

_*Um. Her lawyers.*_

_~Right. Lawyers. Why?~_

_*"Jane" died last week. We've been trying to get into her laptop for six days.*_

Wanda sat back, stunned. That was. . . . . . new. She'd never had someone she knew online. . . die. . .

_~Oh.~_

_*Yeah. And we needed to find you, so. . .*_

Her heart suddenly sped. This was rapidly becoming fishy.

_~What? Find me? Why?~_

_*You're mentioned in the will.*_

Yep. Definitely fishy.

_~I am not! Jane didn't even know my real name!~_

_*Yeah. That's why you've been a bit tricky to track down. She only mentioned you as "Reed". We had to go through her whole family first, to check that none of them ever had that name or nickname. But you_ _**are** _ _Reed, right?*_

This was sooooo weird.

_~That's what I call myself online, sure.~_

_*Then, you're the one we're looking for.*_

_~But it's still impossible! I can't possibly be mentioned in Jane's will. I didn't even really know her. We were just online friends.~_

For the first time, Wanda thought what losing Jane would mean. No more funny talks in the morning over tea and coffee; no more long, rambling chats about nothing and everything at ungodly hours of the night; no more instant support when a personal crisis cropped up; no one to text during the boring meetings and long train commutes. No one who seemed to understand her when she had fought with her boyfriend. she **had** other online friends, of course, but no one she chatted with as frequently, nor anyone she had known as long.

_*But isn't that enough?*_

Wanda stared at the little glowing letters. Was it? She wasn't sure. However, there _was_ one thing she was sure of.

_~Not enough to instantly trust a stranger using her IM account. No.~_

_*:-D Fair enough.*_

She looked fixedly at this for far longer than she would afterwards admit to herself.

_~Wait. . . you're a lawyer who knows how to use emoticons?~_

_*Well. . . not exactly. . .*_

She clenched her jaw.

_~Uh-huh. So, who ARE you, please, and what the actual googly-moogly is going on?~_

There was a disconcertingly long pause.

_*Well, my uncle is certainly "Jane's" lawyer, and I was only brought in to try and crack the laptop's password.*_

_~Okay. So who are YOU?~_

_*Uhm. Josh.*_

_~And you aren't a lawyer?~_

_*I'm seventeen.*_

_~Oh. Perfect.~_

_*Well, it's true!*_

_**Sigh.** _ _Okay. Its time we started using real names. You're Josh?~_

_*Yes.*_

_~And what firm does your uncle work for?~_

_*Peterson, Kepler and Davenport, Attorneys At Law*_

Wanda immediately opened a new window and searched for the firm.

_~And what was Jane's real name?~_

There is was. The question every person on the internet wanted to ask, but was often either afraid they'd get an untrue answer, or was just simply afraid to ask. And when it came to personal info, she'd never even thought to ask "Lady Jane Green" to get more specific than "Jane" and "American".

_*Hannah Norris.*_

For something happening in such an odd way, it seemed real enough.

_~And where are you based?~_

_*Denver, Colorado.*_

_~Okay, doing a ton of internet searches. Give me a few minutes.~_

_*Okay.*_

He seemed so chagrined for the last few posts that she decided to make at least one gesture of good faith.

_~My real name is Wanda Reed Loust. I'm a member of California's Alameda County Library Administration League. Look me up while I look you up, okay?~_

_*Oh. Okay. Uh, thanks.*_

_~Don't mention it.~_

She felt safe directing him to the ACLAL site, as her photo there was several years old, and her personal info was minimal. It wasn't the sort of thing that she minded random strangers seeing. But it also helped legitimize her, in a way she was a bit disturbed he hadn't asked for yet, although she was somehow oddly thankful he hadn't. At least he wasn't bullying her for information. It was this, more than anything, that made her believe he was seventeen, and perhaps, even legit.

Of course, it all still could be a trick. . .

Three results down on her search page, there was a link to a Peterson, Kepler and Davenport, based in Denver.

And then again, it might all be on the up-and-up. . .

It was a smallish firm, with no more than forty lawyers in it, but a quick scan revealed that they attended to a wide range of legal issues, from chiminal cases, to homeowners insurance. She clicked through to the partners page. It listed twelve partners, none of them named Peterson, Kepler or Davenport, naturally, but four glossy headshots and sterile bios down the page, was Franklin West Gearman IV, Estate Lawyer.

He was her best bet.

There were three listed phone numbers, four e-mail addresses, and two links for social media pages for him and his team. She took a gamble, and called his office directly.

One ring.

Two.

Three. . .

"Peterson, Kepler and Davenport, Frank West's office, may I help you?" said an unnaturally cheery voice.

Wanda took a deep breath. She had never minded calling someone on the phone, but when it came to actually _talking_ on the phone, for some reason the very idea had always given her the heebie-jeebies.

"Hi!" she forced out, "This is Wanda Reed, and I'd like to speak to Mr. West, please."

"Mr. West is very busy, miss, would you care to make an appoint-"

"Tell him it's about his nephew, Josh," she interrupted, sure she wouldn't get it out unless she powered though. "I need to speak to Mr. West about his nephew."

"Ahm, one moment please. . ." the secretary's voice briefly faltered before putting on the brainless muzac.

Wanda sighed, relieved for the moment, and gulped her tea. She grimaced. It was lukewarm.

"Hello, madam?"

The male voice tensed her up again.

"Mr. West?"

"Yes. What is this about Josh?"

She looked doubtfully at the message window still open on her computer screen. "Well. . . My name is Wanda Reed Loust, and I think your nephew has contacted me about the will of a Hannah Norris? Would any of that make any sense to yo-"

She was unable to finish, as muffled, confused yelling broke out on the other end of the line. He was all too clearly not yelling at her, and it was just as obvious that not only was this crazy morning totally legit, it was _not_ going the way Mr. West had intended.

* * *

 

The Denver airport looked mostly like every other airport Wanda had ever seen. Drab, functional only in theory, confusingly signed, labyrinthine, tastelessly decorated, poorly lit, and steeped with the emotions of hundreds of thousands of people who didn't want to be there, and would do just about anything at all to spend a few seconds less inside its walls.

Airports always made her antsy, when they didn't bring on a full-blown panic attack.

 


End file.
